30 Times Milo and Marcia Behind the hard shell
by thepurplequill
Summary: 30 One Shots about Milo Banda and Marcia Overstrand. Many different situations with fluff and feelings Marcia never thought she would experience.
1. The First Kiss

**Hey guys! **

**So this is my first FanFiction in English and I really hope there are not too many mistakes in it. **

**Please let me know if you like the story or not and constructive criticism is always welcome!  
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**The pairing is Milo/Marcia and I plan to write 29 more One Shots about their relationship. **

**But because the stories are One Shots I can't promise that I will write all of them, but I will do my best! (It can take me ages to upload a new story because I need three hours to edit and translate a short text.)  
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**And now, here it is:**

_The first kiss  
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Somehow, Tapas always remind her of the good old times. If they really were good or not is the matter of opinion, still they weren't bad for sure.

She had spent the whole evening preparing those little dishes instead of working and she doesn't know yet if she should regret it.

It depends on the person with whom she has dinner and who just indulge in a belt of wine.

"You've always liked it exotic. I remember how you compelled me to cook a Far Eastern speciality with you. Hell, and how the kitchen looked like after it! A battlefield.", her guest says and takes one of the little bowls.

At the thought of it she had to grin. In those days she had zero cooking skills, but fancied cooking all kinds of dishes from regions far away.

It had gone wrong very often, however sometimes it had worked wonderful, although with making sacrifices like a really dirty kitchen.

"Oh yes and I also remember the not really amused look of Alther he had given me every time he had seen me with a cookbook and a pan. But you have to admit: the duck we had one time was very delicious." She takes one of the little dishes too.

"With the sauce the north retailer love to make... I forgot the name of it, but I remember the taste." He nods approvingly and put another bite into his mouth. Either the food Marcia makes is so good that he wants to enjoy every tiny piece of it or it is the complete opposite. Somehow there is no in between. But luckily it is very toothsome this time. "It's rather interesting that we sit and eat here together again, after all those years. The last time was more than fifteen years ago, wasn't it?"

"It's also interesting that we have made up and that I speak with you again. Six years ago I would never have guessed that I see you again ever, so..." She hikes her shoulders. "So much in my life changed and maybe that's why I enjoy the fact that we are friends again and resolved the problems between us. And the next thing is: You are the only person I know who is from the same country as I am."

"I am so pleased to hear that. Somehow I've missed you and evenings like this." He looks into her piercing green eyes and would like to loose himself in them, but he knows that an embarrassing moment would follow immediately. She is so beautiful, even with all her flaws of which some only she sees and complains about.

He knows her long enough to know her character weaknesses and to like her more than only a bit despite of them.

Sure he had loved Cerys - in those days more than everything else - and he never would have wanted to replace her with someone else, still he had asked himself so many times: Why her and not Marcia? Why did he hurt her so much and did leave her?

She did not deserve this and he wants to make up for it, wants to show his affection on her which he always had and wants to show her the feelings he has for her in the present.

His short-lived wife is part of his past and he probably would have loved her until his own death if they had spent a long life together. But now life has to go on, there are so many years ahead him and his feelings for Cerys decreased with every more day without her. Maybe they even have gone out like a candle.

But Marcia, his childhood friend is his present and the only thing that matters is the right here and the right now.

She is the person with whom he wants to spent his remaining rest of his life and he doesn't want to see her ending up with someone else. He does not know when the intense feelings for her came up, but they are there he can't deny it. Since the reconciliation between them he has some sort of hope that she has warm feelings for him, even though she hides them behind the usual cold veneer to avoid getting hurt.

But what kind of feelings she has for him he does not know.

Maybe he is only a very close friend, maybe even something like a brother, but he does not care as long as she allows him to stay in her life.

What Milo does not know is that Marcia has had a crush on him as a young woman and that her feelings never really have gone away, even after he had stopped talking to him because he got engaged with the queen.

Of course they were gone after he had left the castle and did not return, though they came up again after his return.

To be precise, as an ExraOrdinary Wizard she has no time for a relationship and that is why she was content with daydreams what did not make it any better.

His interest in other women has disappointed and hurt her over and over again in the past and that is why she gave her hopes up and got involved in a close friendship.

She perceive that he is not interested.

Lest his habit to flirt is part of his personality and she got over this fact.

Why not enjoying a good and established friendship? What is wrong with that?

You cannot stop feelings overnight, but when you put something behind, it does not hurt that much anymore.

Both of them are deep in their own thoughts, drink their whole glass and eat.

No one speaks until Milo starts holding his head to one's side and to behold her long.

With irritation she looks up and straight into his eyes, asking herself what he might think.

"Let us dance.", he says with a serious voice.

"What?", she asks and looks at him in amusement. "What is it for? We don't even have music."

"So what? With or without it because of you we will get out of step at one point. Besides that we have done that every now and then in the past." He stand up and put out his hand with a smile. "May I have this dance, girl with the big green eyes?"

"That's how you called me when we were not even twenty and even back then I hated it. And I take the thing with the tact personal." Laughing she takes his hand, letting him pull her up and guide her to the living room where is definitely more space than in the kitchen.

"I know", he says grinning and pulls her nearer. "How about a slow waltz to start with? Bet you did not unlearn it."

"I hope so. I mean, if I can't do those simple steps anymore, then it is be pretty sad. And you actually know that your hand should be between my shoulder blades and not on my lower back?" With a raised eyebrow and still amused she puts her left hand on his shoulder.

"Pardon, madam. This was not my intention.", he answers with an innocent look and puts his hand further up. "Ready?"

She takes his left hand with her right one. "Ready."

She had forgot how near you are the other person while dancing a waltz and she feels a misgiving coming up.

He guides her with soft pressure and even without music he had the right tact.

After a few minutes of dancing and being chest to chest with him, she feels a prickling going through her body. So there it is. Damn.

She curses herself before getting distracted by the hand that strokes her back softly.

It's one of those magic moments that appear out of nowhere and carries you away, making you enjoying the whole situation and life.

She looks squarely into his eyes, looses herself in the warm brown of them.

The time seems to stand still and for her there is only him and her.

No work, no Septimus who will come home soon, no to do list.

"To me your beauty is indescribable.", she hears him say and needs a moment until the sentence sinks in.

"Thank you.", she breathes, to say at least anything and gives him a real smile which not everyone gets to see.

How does she deal with compliments like that she get to hear less than hardly?

They stop dancing, only stand there and look at each other.

Delicately Milo brushed a curly out of her face and runs his fingertips over her cheek.

How long did he want to do this at least one time in his life?

No one says a word and there is no need for it.

Unusual shy she puts her right hand on his nape and let him put both of his hand on her waist.

For a moment he rests his forehead against hers and they stay like that with closed eyes, enjoying the nearness.

The air seems to be electrified and Marcia asks herself if this is one of those moments that some people had experienced and wrote it down in a very bad love story.

She never has believed that this actually happens to people, especially people like her.

Situations like this had always been so far away for her and now she witnesses one.

It is strange that not even an hour before she had thought there is only a deep friendship between them and now they are here.

At once she feels how he gives her a short kiss only to give her one more after she didn't protest.

How much she had longed for this...

How often she had dreamed of it and how often she did not want to admit herself that she has a real crush on him.

Her lips prickle where his had touched them and she tastes the sweet wine they had for dinner.

But first as his kisses got longer and longer, she recovers, returns the kisses and snuggles more into him.

"You have no idea how much I'd like to spend the night here...", he mumbled against her lips only to snatch another kiss.

"I promise you this is not a one-off for me and I promise you, you will be able to kiss me as often as you want in the future. But please, please go before half past eight when Septimus comes home and can catch us in flagranti."

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot of this chapter. All rights go to the author.**


	2. The Baking

**Hey guys! **

**I want to thank you for your reviews! Thank you so much!**

**It took me some time to write this chapter, but at least it is much longer than the last one. **

**Somehow I was not able to stop, even though I set myself a maximum of 2'000 words for those One Shots. **

**This time, backing and making a mess was the promt (hopefully it is not too OoC for Marcia) and here is my chapter for it: **

_The baking:  
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„What exactly are you doing?", he asks and wraps his arms around her from behind. "You are not really baking, are you?"

"Well, what else should it be? Hanging out the laundry?" Her eyes sparkle amused as she turns around and gives him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "You could help me with it instead of groping me uselessly."

"Excuse me... What? Groping you?" She can hear pretended outrage is in his voice.

Her head already turned back to the bowl in front of her, she answers him. "Will you help me now or not? And did you see Septimus? I don't want him here while you are."

"No idea. I believe I saw him inside of the Manuskriptorium earlier. But how long do you want to hide your relationship? Just out of curiosity.", he says and snatches the recipe that is lying beneath a bag of flour and an egg carton on the kitchen table.

A chocolate cake and it does not seem like as if it is a simple one because it is a pretty long list.

"How long? So long I think it is necessary. I want a solid relationship at first before I present it the world. And when my apprentice should find it out, your daughter will know it not even twenty minutes later. And you know what will happen if Jenna knows it." Spiritedly she overturns the a full bowl into another one.

"That means it will stay like this for about... half a year from now?", he asks and looks at her with a black look. It doesn't suit him that they will always have to watch out and hide their feelings. "Bright prospects. Seeing that makes me really happy."

Irritated she turns around again and looks him straight into the eyes with her piercing look. "You have to understand my situation. I do not want to risk anything, not now. You know that Jenna wouldn't accept me, if she knew about us and I don't want to hear all the gossip from the others. And there are many more reasons why it would destroy a young relationship like ours."

"So you don't believe in us?", he asks nearly challenging with pressing his hands to his hips, just as Marcia likes to do it.

"Of course not! Gosh, Milo!" She turns back to her cake dough. "But I am afraid and I want itto work out so badly. I am the ExtraOrdinary Wizard and it is a damn fact that people are interested in me and my life. I do not want lest the pressure - which could come, I don't doubt that - let me doubt anything. I want to be with you and this is exactly why I want it to be a secret for a while."

"Okay, I will wait. But not more than those six months because I can't promise you more."

"Thank you.", she whispers and gives him a kiss on his lips. "And now you could really help me with the cake."

A bit mollified again he starts reading through the recipe he still holds in his hand. "I already have flour on my clothes so I don't think it really matters if I should get more on it. And it's a chocolate cake, right?"

"Guess you can read, right? Well, you can beat the eggs white until stiff and you can put sugar in it time after time." She points to the egg carton and the sugar. "It has to be four eggs and I need the yellow part. While you beat them until stiff, I see about the flour and the rum."

"And how do I do that? How do I part the two things?" He looks a bit lost at the carton and the two bowls next to it.

"You break them in the middle, but slowly and carefully. Then you pour the yolk from one part of the shell to the other until only it is left. The egg white will flow into the bowl beneath it automatically." She puts a spoon full of rum into the dough and stares thoughtfully into her bowl. "Do you think I should use more? How will it taste then? Oh, or better not."

"And this will work out? Do you really think I am capable of doing this?" He begins carefully to open the first egg. Maybe a bit too carefully since he is not really able to open it.

"No, but I can't do it either. This is why it does not make a difference if you toil yourself with it or if I would.", she says grinning and looks over to him. "Furthermore you sock it against the rim of a cup or a glass, then you can break it open slowly."

"Watch out, I have a damp cloth over here and I am willing to throw it.", he growls, but she knows that he is as cheerful as she is at the moment.

"Dare it! But woe! If an egg falls down or you don't part it right, then you should watch out." She weights the flour out and from time to time she looks teasingly to her boyfriend, always waiting for an attack.

Concentrated, but with an amused face expression he parts the egg. "I'd really like to see how you punch me. Rather your hand will hurt than my shoulder or any other part of my body you hit with it."

"Are you telling me I can't hit someone?", she asks and acts offended. "And who says that I would use my feasts?"

"As if you would use magic to hurt someone. Apart from that I ask myself if there is more flour in your bowl or more spread in the whole kitchen."

"Shut up and work. And you will pick the pieces of the shell out of the egg white, **capisce**?" She flutters a kiss onto his cheek before she walks by to get the bowl with the yolk to mix it with the rum and the flour.

"Yes Ma'am." He tries to give her a cuff but she manages it to rescue herself with a big step forward just in time.

"Okay, now you stir the egg white until you have something like snow. And that is when you put the sugar into the bowl.", she says while looking for a cake spring-form pan in the kitchen cupboard. "But don't stir like if you'd rather go to sleep instead of doing it. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh my god, it's true what the people say.", he shouts saucer-eyed. "It's true, you are bossy."

"Eh, what?" Marcia looks at him puzzled. It takes her a few minutes to realise what he meant exactly. "Oh! OH! What do they say about me?"

"That you are bossy."

"Well, I am a leader." She holds her head up high and struts with the cake spring-form to the other side of the table again to mix the dough with the yolk. "Go on."

He thinks for a second. "Selfish."

"I am dedicated."

"Kinda a floozy."

"If this was true, at least I would have had a sex life. But since I never had time to meet a guy at all... Well. I see it as a compliment. I am pretty enough for men to sleep with me... in the opinion of some people."

"Belligerent"

"Purposeful."

"Stubborn as a mule."

"Assertive."

"How do you manage it to make people talk about you like that?", he asks and looks at her thoughtfully. Sure, she can be exhausting, but she is not nearly as bad as he has heard multiple times.

"It is the jealousy and the lack of understanding, Milo.", she answers with a shrug. "And among those things I do not want our relationship to be public. I know enough women who surely wouldn't push you out of bed."

"So you are afraid of the possible rivalry?"

"Kinda because... why shouldn't there be one? You are handsome, charming and you have money. Besides that I know some who would try to seduce you, only to give me a wipe or because they think I am an arrogant bitch." She says thosethings as if it is something normal. As if she would talk about something banal like the weather or so.

Milo rises one of his eyebrows. "I understand the thing with the relationship, but what I don't understand is... What does other people motivate to judge you like that?"

"As longs as they do not say it into my face, I don't really care about it. But let us talk about something else.", she answers him with a face expression which tells him, that he clearly shouldn't talk about this subject for now.

"But I've finished this egg-sugar-stuff. Shall I grease the cake spring-form pan?" He hands her the little bowl and takes the butter and the brush.

"Since when do you know that you have to grease it?", she asks with a laugh and stirs the dough ready.

"I just know it... No, it stand on the slip and I don't even know for what I do it. How much butter does it have to be? Very much or should it be more a... thin layer?"

"Medium would be good.", she says and peeps into the spring-form. "A bit less and it is fine."

He does what she says and waits patiently for her to finish up.

Some parts her dark curls are full of flour and it is the same on her face and her clothes.

He has always found the green eyes of the wizards beautific, but somehow they seem to vary because to him, Marcias eyes are even more special.

It is more a bilious green and maybe it is the colour which makes her so scary for some people.

It's an aggressive colour with a dark circle around it, but he loves it.

He is sure that the eyes of Septimus have a more soft and warm green, just like some other wizards he know.

And some have darker or only lighter eyes.

It is because she is an ExtraOrdinary Wizard?

It that why her eyes have the purest green of them all?

Certainly she doesn't know the answer either, else he would ask her.

God, the fact of them being a couple is still so unbelievable...

If he wants he can put his arm around her.

Pull her into a hug.

Kiss her.

And all that without having to look for a reason why and without justifying it.

Dreamily he watches her pouring the dark dough into the spring-form and accomplishes dripping the last bit of it on the rim of the bowl drips over the table.

"Okay, now it has to stay in the oven for 30 minutes, then ten outside of it before I can put the Fondant stuff on it. Any idea how we can dawdle away those 40 minutes?"

"The what? Fondant?" Er looks at her flabbergasted and asks himself what on earth a Fondant should be.

Marcia sights deep. "Oh Milo, you still have to learn so much... It is a kind of coat for the cake." She and gazes over the kitchen . "And it will take ages until it is immaculate clean again. Dear, it looks like as if it had been hit by a bomb."

"How about letting the kitchen be the kitchen for now? Anyway it will clean itself.", he says and pulls her closer.

"Sometimes I am sorry for those who do not have a self cleaning household. But then again I am sorry for myself because no normal person has to work as much as I have to." She lays her chin down on his shoulder and breathes out deep.

As the ExtraOrdinary Wizard she has to be prepared for all possibilities. There can always be an emergency and the first person they will send for is her.

That's why she is fraught all day long, even in her free time she can't really rest.

However as soon as Milo clasps her in his arms, the whole stress decreases for the moment and her whole body relaxes immediately, just like right now.

"When are you supposed to have holidays? ", he asks and runs his fingers through some curls. He feels awfully well how the hugs do her good and he does not understand why she bothers herself with so much work. A few days off wouldn't harm her surely.

"Holidays...", she mumbles and apparently she seems to think about it. "Holidays... I guess... No, I am nearly sure... that I don't have holidays and never had official free days ever before in my ExtraOrdinary Wizard time. Actually it only exists in my vocabulary because of Septimus."

"Never?" He takes a step back and stares at her, shocked. "You _never _have holidays?!"

"No, never. I only have the entire Sundays, presupposed no one needs me."

"For how many years are you the ExtraOrdinary Wizard now?" He is so shocked. How does she stick the stress out?

"For half a year now Septimus became seventeen and the day he was born was my first day in office. So it is quiet a while." She huddles up against him again and obviously the fact that she is overworked for years now doesn't bug her very much.

"How about travelling with me?", he asks with the naïve hope she may accept it and give herself some time off from work. "I know how much you love travelling and learning something new. Where else could you do it better than in a foreign country with another culture. Septimus could do some of your work while you are away, mind you he has his graduation in a few months."

"I certainly won't give a seventeen years old boy so much responsibility! First of all the pressure would be too much for him and second: I want to keep the job a little longer. If he messes it up I can pack my bags and go. I'd love to, but it just is not on."

"And one day? Later? When he is older?"

"Maybe.", she answers cagey and begins to kiss his neck, in hopes of getting rid of this topic. Meanwhile she does not really care anymore if Septimus walks in or not.

But Milo is too caring to get himself into the fondling.

He has already seen so much in his life, has talked to so many doctors and wise people...

He knows of a disease which had afflicted people who had worked too much very often, back in the old days.

It even had driven some people to suicide because it had caused strong depressions and other disorders.

_Burn out._

How good the name fits...

"About what are you thinking?", she whispers and gives him a kiss on his lips, looking at him so questioning with her green eyes.

"I worry about you. What if the whole work makes you sick?" He also gives her a kiss and runs his thumb over her chin. "What if you break down?"

"It won't happen, don't worry yourself! I can asses myself very good." Beneath her soft sounding voice he also hears an irritated sound, she is done with this topic.

"But please don't be too proud to admit it if you aren't able to deal with it anymore, okay? Let me know and I will be there." He hugs her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

"What good thing did I do that made me deserve someone like you?"

"And you roll it and then you accoutre the cake with it?", he asks and watches her sceptically how she rolls the Fondant - which reminds him of Plasticine very much - while he frees the cake out of its form.

"Exactly. You can decorate the cake way better with the Fondant." She feels for irregularities and checks if he is already thin enough. "After all Dandra won't become 40 years old ever again and maybe the only hobby I have and had developed in my teenager years is good for something for once."

"Gosh, yes. I remember your paintings and the day you came up with the idea to draw on CAKES." He shakes his head and places the spring-form pan into the sink where a cloth and washing-up liquid start to clean it.

"That's what happens when you do not have many options as an apprentice. And you can paint easier aside from studying than learning how to play the piano." With a fast movement she lifts the sugar mixture and throws it over the cake, tugs it fast enough to get rid of folds. "Is there a crack? No, I don't think so..."

"Even back then you had worked so much... although you were only in the apprenticeship." Thoughtfully he watches her striking the Fondant.

"Is this a blame?" Exasperated she looks at him and reaches for the sugar colours and the brushes. "I am not the who had consoled herself with another man after we hadn't seen us that often anymore."

"Marcia, C'mon. I didn't mean it like that, I swear." Sometimes he could fall into despair because of her difficult personality.

She is so sensitive when it comes to relationships towards other persons...

"I am sorry... I should break me of being so bitchy. It is just... I don't know." She brushes some curls out of her face. "Why do we always get into this subject of me working too much and not having enough time?"

"Because it haunts us somehow?" He starts filling the piping bag with a frosting she needs later on.

"Maybe. And probably I am too stressed and am afraid of what will come in the future." She bathes one brush in the first colour and starts painting.

"Is it because Septimus has his graduation in a few months and will move out after it?", he asks.

"Yes, this is what niggles me the most.", she admits. "I offered him staying here as long as he wants, but he sees the time after his graduation as the last chance to go to an university. He wants to get away from the castle so bad, away from his home. He got an offer for a study on the old mainland. There are universities which teach an older and different kind of Magyk and this is what he wants. I won't see him for a year, maybe he stays there even longer."

"Do you really think he will stay away that long?", he asks a bit doubtingly. "I think he overestimates himself a bit with it."

"He has survived the Young Army, the Queste, the islands of Syren and so many other things. I do not think it will become a big problem for him, escaping his old life for a while. But I will not only miss him, but also fear for him. You know the best how dangerous voyages like this can be." She paints black outlines of flowers on the upside of the cake, does it with the perfection with which she does everything.

She is one of those persons who live the 'Go big or go home'.

"It is not as dangerous as you may think. Where does he want to go? I guess he goes to the centre of the mainland? To the coast of the Med?" A bit overchallenged he tries to stop the crème from leaking out of the piping back, but he doesn't really succeed. "Or more eastern?"

"I have no idea, I've never been there." Irritated of her hair she ties her hair up before she continues with the paintings on the cake. "Hopefully he will change his mind, but I doubt it."

"Don't worry too much about it. He is hardly and intelligent." He tips with the forefinger on which is some of the frosting on the tip of her nose.

"Gosh, Milo, what are you doing?" Freaked she takes a flying leap backwards and accomplishes it letting excess colour on the brush drip onto the floor.

Grinning he takes a step forward with the intension to give her a stroke over her cheek.

She tries to duck him, tries to finagle a way around him, but fails.

A squeak escapes her as another stroke is on her forehead.

"Tell me, are you a child?", she asks with all the seriousness she can bring up. "Check yourself."

"C'mon, why so serious?", he counters and snatches the bowl with the rest of the crème.

"I warn you, if you really do this we are divorced people." With wide open eyes she looks to him, then to his weapon and back, sill trying to reach the door.

"We aren't even married."

"We do not have to be married for me being able to cut you out of my life.", she says with a pretended coldness and struts past him. "Just do it. Dare it. You know where you find the door afterwards."

For a moment they stare at each other, not moving, not saying anything and Milo is not sure if he shall stop or if he can dare it.

It is as if you look into the eyes of a cat, not knowing if it is aggressive or only wants to play.

But when does this cat ever want to play?

Slowly she reaches out her arm to grasp the bowl and pull it towards her. "Nursery child. I'd rather eat this stuff than having it in my hair because of you and than having to look for something which I can use for revenge."

"Just wait a second, I have another idea. Don't move. Just let me do it."

"You are so annoying today, do you know that?", she says and rolls her eyes. "I've never been so slowly with something like today ever before."

"You know me and maybe I only want you to live for a bit. Just because you are a politician, it doesn't mean that you have to deny yourself every fun in life.", he says and takes the bowl from her again. "And stop rolling your eyes all the time."

"But it is so hard to pull myself up." It is nearly a grouse. "Now do what you have to do."

"As if you are in torment." He shakes his head and starts distributing a bit crème on her lips.

Automatically she licks over them and looks at him quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Impatient like no one else I've ever met. Wait and don't lick everything away immediately." He does the same again.

After he has finished, he starts to kiss her lips, soft, but also a bit longing.

The crème makes the kiss for both of them even sweeter than it already is, makes them fight a bit over it.

She feels a light nibbling at her lips, a tongue tip which parts her lips.

It feels unaccustomed, several years have elapsed since her last tongue kiss and it feels a bit odd for her, but yet she enjoys it.

She has missed the passion which is paralleled by a kiss like this as much as she has missed the irregular breathing and the being-embraced.

Wrapping her arms around his neck she snuggles up to him tighter as she feels his arms around her waist.

It is an eternal play between their tongues and as so often they forget everything around them, the time included.

That's how it has to be.

This is what she has always wanted and this is exactly what she has now, after all those years.

She lives this dream even with the man she has always wanted it like this.

She could hardly believe her luck and as long as she is together with him, everything else is not important.

The upcoming work. The chaotic kitchen. The refurbishing of the library. The appointments with the tailoring, the customs of port, the palace and the Manuskriptorium.

She doesn't feel the stress all this brings along as long as she is together with him.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot of this chapter. All rights go to the author.**


	3. Clothes

**So, chapter three is online!**

**I am so sorry that it took me so long for such a short one, but I there will be a writer competition in my mother tongue so I am editing and writing on another story...**

**But I promise I won't stop updating this story! **

**And as you will see... the drama begins and will continue (and increase) in the next chapter. :D **

„_Actually..." Septimus puts a cookie into his mouth. "Just actually... It's none of your business at all with whom he has a relationship, IF he has one. Maybe he wants to stay single?" _

"_Yeah, but I still don't like it how he tries to get off with new women all the time and how he probably changes his girlfriend like his underpants." Jenna crosses her arms in front of her chest._

"_Do you know how many women had entered and left the palace while he lived here? And I still see him with varying women. I merely hold the view that it would be good for him to meet a new woman and settle down with her. He won't get any younger and a bit steadiness in life has never harmed anyone."_

"_I understand your point, but still... It's his life, isn't it? But well... do you already have a woman in mind? Offhandedly I cannot think of someone you can bear with.", he says, raises one of his eyebrows and asks himself, why his sister always has to butt into the life of other people.  
>It seems like she has to think for a moment herself, masterly ignoring his scepticism and thinking of all her acquaintances with the right age. "Maybe Boo's mother? She is pretty, intelligent and I think she would suit him the best."<em>

"_He is always away and you know why her husband broke up with her: She gets jealous so easily." He starts to think about possibilities, too. She won't shut up about it until she has found the perfect bride to be for him, he knows that for sure. "Maybe Julie? But I don't think I saw sparks fly when I saw them together the last time... She looked more like she would like to kill him... Maybe the aunt of the girlfriend of Beetles cousin? Oh, maybe not..."_

"_Zarina Iyer?" With her fingernails she taps on the table. An old habit which Sarah failed to break loose of her. "This could work out, don't you think so?"_

"_Uhm... Maybe this could have worked out, but have you seen them at the dinner three months ago? I bet she didn't go home alone, so the chance that they will become a couple is somewhere around 1%?"_

"_No, they never had anything with each other, but I know that she would like to. I heard her talking about her crush the other day, so...", Jenna answers with a look of satisfaction.  
><em>

* * *

><p>"I have to admit: It really is a bit parky." She chafes her hands, shivers a bit and hates herself for choosing this dress. Short sleeves and a skirt which barely covers her whole knee. Really not the best choice for those temperatures. But you should think a July night is warmer than that.<p>

"What have you expected? 25 degrees like by day?", he asks and puts an arm around her shoulder to give her at least a bit of his bodily warmth. "But you can't say I didn't told you."

"Who are you to tell me this right into my face? My mother?", she asks a bit snappishly and wraps her own arms around her additionally. But even the warmth of three arms don't make it better, somehow.

"I am your life companion, I am allowed to say that."

"Well, but even if I would have believed you, I wouldn't have had other clothes at your place. Neither a dress with longer sleeves, nor a jacket or a coat." Staggering a bit because he has his arm very tight around her and doesn't have the same length of steps as her, they go in the direction of the big market in the castle. "Shall we get some hot punch first?" Changing the topic. Avoiding a squabbling. Not snapping at him without a reason because it's not this fault and because she should appreciate his ministrations.

"Hot punch in a parky night like this? Sounds good to me." Dreamily he looks straight to the lights which show where the big market starts at the end of the back lane. It promises to be a beautiful night, even though they have to be there as 'just friends'. "But tell me when it gets too cold, okay? I know you. If you get a cold, or even a flu, you would go to work, no matter how near death already is."

"Okay, what does that do for me? You won't be able to help me if I should start freezing." She gives him a last and short, but passionate kiss, before they go side by side with enough space between them to not be identified as a couple immediately.

Contrary to the Wizardtower, Milos house has the advantage that there are hardly any lamps which light the streets and make every person very visible. In this case even Marcia appreciates the anonymity of the darkness.

"I bet the stall is on the other side, as always. At least we can already look at the others."

* * *

><p>"Gosh, it is so bitterly cold..." She comes from behind, stands right beside him. "And I think this is the moment in which I tell you that I am nearly frozen to... Oh, Hello." Confused she looks into the brown face of a woman.<p>

Obviously he has talked to her and she has no problem with that, but still... it surprises her. Who is she?

"Hello.", answers the woman with a strong accent and a friendly smile. Is this the woman who comes from a subcontinent far away? She has heard about her. "It's a pleasure to talk to you in person, Madam Marcia. I am Zarina Iyer."

"Good evening." Marcia forces herself to also smile and tries desperately to suppress her tremor. Shivering because of the for summer meanwhile freezing temperatures, she is in a bad mood and that is why she clearly does not need a good looking, 30-year-old woman next to her boyfriend, especially a woman whose face expression tells her that she'd like to come to know him better.  
>Only the soft expression of Milo calms her down a bit and stops her from becoming a bit bitchy towards Zarina.<p>

"I assume you are chilled to the bones by now?", he asks and puts his drink away.

"No, I am warm, don't you see that?", she answers with as much sarcasm in her voice as possible. Five more minutes in this coldness and she might drop dead. "But thank you for asking."

"Before you become highly reserved..." Watched by three surprised persons – Zarina, Marcia and an old man – he pulls his sweater over his head, even though he only wears a T-Shirt beneath it.

"W... What are you doing?", Marcia asks with widened eyes, a bit overchallenged with this situation. Somehow she does not see a link between his words and his action.

It really isn't warm and if it would be to him, he would have done this much earlier. Why now?  
>The murder is out as he thrusts the piece of clothing into her hand and looks at her expectantly.<p>

Still a bit confused she hold it. It's still wonderful warm of his body warmth.

"Don it!", he says and crosses his arms, watches her. It's a long shot since Marcia is still anxious to keep the relationship a secret and he has no idea, how serious she has to be in her free time, but he doesn't want her to catch a chill.

"Oh my gooood, that's so sweet! A real gentleman!", bursts Zarina out abuzz and drools over him.  
>Good heavens! She knows this woman for maybe five minutes now and she is already not able to stand her.<p>

She has never understood this kind of women, even though she knows them very good; seeking the attention of a man, but staying passive most of the time. Waiting a lifetime to get asked out, always hoping and trying to catch the attention somehow. No, this woman is not dangerous, maybe she will maltreat her nerves several times, but not more.

"Thank you." She touches his hand briefly with hers before she shuffles the sweater on and appreciates the warmth it gives her.

Of course it is way to big for her, reaches down to her tights and covers her slender hands completely.

She looks a bit lost in it, seems to drown in it, despite the fact that she is a very tall woman and does not have a small frame.

She is thin yes, but not petite.

"Wouldn't wear that on a Gala, but it looks cute somehow.", he says and grins at her. "And it's not cold anymore, is it?"

"Indeed, yes. But you realise that you will never get it back again?", she asks, also with a grin.  
>It smells so unbelievable good of the washing powder he uses for years now and also of his aftershave. Both together she connects with comfort and home.<p>

Her parents are dead and she has never been at home anywhere in this world, but in the Wizardtower. However she can't live in her apartment forever because one day she won't be the ExtraOrdinary Wizard anymore. A sad truth and she doesn't like thinking about it.

But where he is, she feels arrived and the fact that they share the same origin gives her the feeling of being at home even more.

"I don't care. As long as it makes you happy, keep it." Faster than Marcia could ever have reacted, he kisses her gently on her forehead.

She counters his action with a deprecating stare, but is not really bothered about it.  
>It is late, there are only a few people on the market left and as long as Zarina Iyer shuts up about it, no one will jump to a conclusion.<p>

"For what do you have friends if not for moments like these?", Marcia asks in a neutral tone of voice. At least she hopes it sounds neutral.

Happy and ready for bed she enters her apartment.

Her curls are rumpled, she is tired and a bit hungry, but her mood is a lot better than it had been a few hours ago.

If she ignores the fact that there will be a search in one of the houses near the north gate tomorrow afternoon, she can take a nice shower, snuggle down in her pillows and fall asleep happy and satisfied after.

The lights in the kitchen are still on; probably Septimus works on his essay or studies for the first of the many exams he will have to pass before he can graduate.

Dear Septimus...

She decides to join him for a while, wants to let this long day fade away with a conversation.

"Good evening.", she says as she closes the door behind her and goes to the kitchen.

"Good evening, Marcia." With a grin her apprentice leans back in his seat to be able to see her. "But it's more night, don't you think so?"

"Then good night?" She collapses into a chair diagonally opposite to him and still wears Milo's sweater. It is too cosy to undress it and why should she do it? Only because she wants to chat with Septimus? "But you have to admit... It sound very outlandish. No one of us wants to go to bed right now, so..."

"Don't worry, I was joking. And I am surprised that you came home this late. Actually I thought you already went to bed hours ago.", he says, bending over his books again. "And if you allow this question... whose sweater is that?"

He tries to let it sound casually, but Marcia is not so stupid to think he doesn't nearly bursts with curiosity.

She will string him along, won't tell him now. "Of someone."

"Of a man, I guess?"

She hunches her shoulders, feigns ignorance. "Who knows?"

"Come on, please! Don't be so mean. It's none of my business, but still.", he whines.

"You've got it, it is none of your business." She appreciates it. One day she will have to tell him, but not now. Especially because this play is too much fun.

"I've realised it a while ago that you are in a better mood in general and you seem to be happier. I'm happy for you, I really am." Thoughtfully he starts to knock his knuckles onto the table. A habit which nearly drove her to insanity several times. "But who is the happy one?"

It had been a bit... weird when he thought about Marcia having a boyfriend for the first time.

This woman and having a crush? Being in love? Let alone being in a relationship?

He has never seen a person in his life who is as focused on work as she is. And at the same time it somehow is hard for her to have much contact with other people.

Indeed it got better over the years, but he has never got the feeling like a relationship would be important for her; He had thought that maybe it is the last thing on earth she would ever need in her life.

But it seems like he had been wrong. Again.

This woman is a walking mystery, as well for others, as for herself probably. To him it often appears like she has no idea about what she feels, what she wants and what she should do with her feelings.

That she has a relationship now surprises him very much.

If he is right with his assumption at all.

"This, my dear, is a secret. I know that I can trust you, but it is too fresh and sensitive to tell it anyone." She smiles and reaches for one of the cookies which he had put on a plate as food for his nerves.

"So you date him?", he asks, knowing that there is no point in continuing with asking for the name. If Marcia Overstrand doesn't want something, she doesn't do it, it's that simple.

"Yes, I think so. And you and Rose? Are you dating?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Come on, are you kidding me?" Jenna looks at him doubtfully, unwilling to believe it. "Marcia and a boyfriend? Who would be such a masochist?"<em>

"_Hey, she is not that bad and you know that! And I am telling you the way it is; she admitted it, but didn't tell me the name." He always reacts a bit irritated when it comes to the hate Jenna has against his tutor. He knows that she is not an easy person to deal with and she can annoy him as much as she annoys his sister, but all this taunt gets on his nerves. _

"_Jaja... Do you have a guess who it could be?"_


End file.
